


Some Kind of Paradise

by QueensFlash



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-07 09:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13431510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueensFlash/pseuds/QueensFlash
Summary: When the Bellas have to stay in Europe longer than expected after the USO tour, Beca and Chloe finally start acknowledging those feelings that have been there for quite some time.





	1. Chapter 1

 

The One with the Old Married Couple in the Hotel Lobby

* * *

 

 

“You can’t do that!”

“No, you do not get to sit there and tell me what to do - not after everything you have done.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“Oh, yeah? And who died and made you queen?”

“We agreed to the terms and conditions together. Emphasis on the ‘together’ part.”

“Then you went and cheated your way through this thing. Sorta negated the accord, you know?”

“Beca Mitchell.” Chloe looked at the girl across from her through narrowed eyes. She twirled the small, wooden bishop piece between her fingers, and Beca stared at it apprehensively. Chloe Beale was the farthest thing from a violent person, but Beca harbored some concerns about her impulses whenever she was caught up in any sort of competition, board games included.

“Hey,” Beca replied, holding up her hands in surrender, “don’t look at me like that. I’m telling you like it is.”

“We clearly established that rooks can only move three spaces forward and one space left, but you-”

“We did not!” Beca said shrilly. “We said they can move three spaces forward and two spaces right…”

“I wish you guys could hear yourselves right now, it’s hilarious,” Emily threw in. She was sitting on one of the couches that surrounded the table on which the game was and the comfy chairs on either side of it, and neither Beca nor Chloe had noticed her arrival. Her head rested on her hands, elbows on knees, and she watched the scene before her with a knowing smile. “This whole hotel could have gone up in flames and I’m fairly certain you two wouldn’t have noticed.”

“How long have you been there?” Beca demanded.

“Since you tried to jump Chloe’s knight like checkers and she had to kindly remind you what game you were playing,” Emily responded easily. “You both really suck at chess.”

“We don’t know how to play chess,” Chloe pointed out. “Which is why we made up our own rules before starting the game. Rules that went on to be broken time and time again…”

“Dude, don’t even start,” Beca said with a shake of her head. “You’re definitely the one who-”

“Hey, old married couple,” Fat Amy interrupted as she sidled up to the three girls, “do you mind? I’m in the middle of looking for my next sexy suitor, but you two are seriously cramping my vibe.”  
Beca and Chloe glanced at each other with expressions of confusion and slight amusement.

“That’s not...do you know how suitors work, Amy?” Beca asked. “I don’t think you get to choose one. They typically choose you.”

“Besides,” Chloe chimed in, “how are we, as you say, ‘cramping your vibe’? We weren’t even talking to you.”

Fat Amy rolled her eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, but I was sitting ten feet away.” She waited for a response, but received none, so she went on, “We’re the three hottest bitches in this place, of course we’re going to know each other.” After a glimpse at Emily, Fat Amy tacked on, “Sorry, Legacy, you’re still too young to be included in a category with the rest of us. Maybe next year.”

“I don’t think…” Emily began, but she trailed off when Fat Amy sauntered away towards the outdoor pool without so much as a backwards look. “Okay then.”

“Don’t worry, Em,” Beca said as she and Chloe, silently agreeing enough “chess” had been played, began sweeping the pieces into their respective drawers, “you’ll have your own suitor one day. And if you’re lucky, you’ll get to choose who it is, like Amy out there.”

“Every day I spend with you people results in more questions and confusion,” Emily declared. She lifted herself from the couch and walked across the hotel lobby towards the elevators lost in thought, leaving a chuckling Beca and Chloe behind.

“Do you think we’ve corrupted her a bit too much?” Chloe asked pensively.

“Legacy? No way,” Beca told her. “If anything, we haven’t corrupted her enough. Chloe, she thought we had come to Europe just to ‘have fun,’ so we apparently failed in converting her to a dedicated-yet-slightly-excessive competitor.”

“I guess you’re right,” Chloe conceded. “We still have to work on that.” She stood up, stretched, yawned, and waited for Beca to follow suit. They retraced Emily’s footsteps and made their way through the lobby.

“Stick with me, kid, I’m always right.”

“Mmm,” Chloe hummed, refusing to agree or argue with the comment. “You really do suck at chess.”

“Hey,” Beca said as she bumped Chloe’s shoulder with her own, “it’s not like you knew what you were doing either. I don’t want to hear it.”

Chloe was about to respond, but a frantic, wide-eyed Aubrey stepped out of the elevator ahead of them. They pulled up short and scrutinized her.

“Hi,” she huffed when she saw them. The doors behind her shuddered to a close with a ding!

Beca had long since become accustomed to the signs of an Aubrey Posen panic attack; she knew that one was either about to take place, or already had. Regardless, Beca braced herself for the high-pitched voice and probable gagging.

“What’s up?” Chloe asked with some caution in her voice. She must have sensed the impending anxiety, too.

Aubrey took a deep breath through her nose. Exhaled out of her mouth. “So,” she said, “you know how we’re supposed to catch a flight back home tomorrow?” Her audience nodded in acknowledgement.

“How could I forget?” Beca inquired. “You guys jet off to the homeland, and I’m stuck here alone for another week. Every girl’s dream, am I right?” The rhetorical question earned her a jab in the ribs from Chloe.

“Right, sorry about that,” Chloe said sarcastically. “Leaving you here as you wait to start touring with an international star. How ever could we do such a thing?” She rolled her eyes at Beca. “Continue, Aubrey.”

“Well, scratch that. We’ve had a change of plans.” Aubrey wrung her hands together.

“What exactly constitutes a ‘change’ of plans?” Chloe wondered.

“The guy at the booking agency must have misunderstood me,” Aubrey explained as she tried to keep her voice steady. “Because instead of getting us on a plane to New York tomorrow, he got us on a plane to New York in...eight days.”

“So we’re….” Chloe began.

“Stranded in the South of France for eight days?” Aubrey supplied. “Yep! There are two other flights out of here before then, but they’re filled up. I told the travel agent to just wait for a flight that all of us could get on. No Bella left behind and stuff.”

“What, is there only one airport on this continent?”

“No,” Aubrey responded, drawing out the word, “but there are a very select few that have direct flights to New York. Between the buses, trains, and planes we’d have to take if we went elsewhere...hey, have fun with that.” In true Aubrey Posen fashion, she quickly snapped out of the nervous state she was in and became upright and serious. “There are worse places to be stuck. Congratulations, Beca. You’ll have your roommate here for a few more days. Make the best of it before you go out to see the world.”

There seemed to be more to the words: something that made Beca’s stomach flutter, but before Beca had the chance to address them, or Aubrey herself, Aubrey began walking towards the front entrance of the hotel, presumably to tell all of the other girls the news. Beca thought she was already forming an agenda in her head for the unplanned extra week.

“Oh, and Chloe?” Aubrey called back as she reached the revolving door. “Would you mind calling Chicago and letting him know what’s going on? I’m sure he would be more than thrilled to continue showing us around.”

Chloe nodded slowly. She pulled her phone out of her coat pocket and, almost with a trace of shyness, stole a look at Beca; she opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind.

“Tell him I said hi,” Beca forced out. She tried to make it sound genuine, but knew she fell short of the endeavor when Chloe’s eyes turned downward.

“Yeah,” she responded in a quiet voice. “See you in a little bit.” Then she was gone - following in Aubrey’s path out the front door.

“Yeah,” Beca exhaled into the heavy silence.

She shouldn’t be so upset at the situation, Beca thought to herself. If anything, she should be thrilled: now, instead of being in a foreign land with minimum acquaintances to keep her company, Beca had her best friends for another week - had Chloe for another week. That should be enough.

Except it wasn’t. Because it was supposed to be easy. Beca had told herself it was going to be easy: the Bellas would leave for the United States tomorrow, and Beca would have a week to herself to mentally prepare for the fact she was going on an actual intercontinental tour as the opening act. Not a whole lot of time to dwell on the emotional USO journey which had just wrapped up, and not a whole lot of time to dwell on the knowledge that it would be months before Beca saw the Bellas again. A whole lot of sadness would be sidestepped that way.

Not anymore. Now, the goodbyes and parting of ways would be prolonged, and Beca didn’t want to think about what that meant for her emotions. Throw in Chloe and Chicago’s romance in paradise - something else Beca would have to endure for another week - and a miniscule part of Beca was tempted to bow out of the tour completely.

It wasn’t that Beca wasn’t happy for Chloe and her budding love. Of course she was happy for her: alongside Fat Amy, Chloe was Beca’s best friend. She was worthy of every good thing the world had to offer. But that didn’t stop Beca from having reservations about Chicago, a guy they had met mere days ago. He was good looking enough, and Aubrey had a point: he seemed to radiate kindness and was genuinely happy to escort the Bellas around Europe. Yet, something still unnerved Beca; she couldn’t pinpoint it, but she knew it was something like the stars weren’t aligned whenever Chicago was around, which fueled Beca’s worries about Chloe and Chloe’s emotions.

Beca had long since convinced herself that whenever these thoughts cropped up - they occurred more often than she’d like to admit, always in the context of Chloe Beale - it was simply the overprotective-best-friend instinct rearing its head. She didn’t overthink about it or overanalyze it because she didn’t need to: it was nothing more than a friendly courtesy. Best friendly courtesy.  
The flutter in Beca’s stomach kindled by Aubrey’s words minutes ago still hadn’t ceased as Beca punched the elevator button with her thumb. It wasn’t a new feeling, but it certainly wasn’t welcomed. And if someone would have pointed out that the flutter always made itself known most of all whenever Chloe became involved with a new person or when a cryptic comment about the dynamics between Chloe and Beca was made, usually by Fat Amy or Aubrey, Beca would have denied it.


	2. The One Where Aubrey's Had Enough

“Keep staring like that and you’re going to have to start explaining yourself.”

Beca jumped out of her reverie when she heard Aubrey’s voice. She looked to her right and saw the girl had slid up next to her unnoticed. “Uh...what?”

“You. Staring. It’s been going on for so long I think you forgot it’s even happening,” Aubrey explained.

“What?” Beca asked through a shaky chuckle. “I don’t...I mean, I’m just looking at-”

“Her,” Aubrey supplied at the same time Beca finished, “Him.”

When she processed what Aubrey said, Beca started choking on air. “Excuse me? Why would you - what the hell do you…”

“Oh, you’re staring at _him_?” Aubrey smirked and considered Beca closely.

As predicted, Aubrey had crafted a schedule for the Bellas’ unanticipated week in the South of France. First on the list was Fondation Maeght; Beca had been shocked when Aubrey told her that her attendance wasn’t mandatory, pointing out that Beca had preparations to make for the international tour that started next week.

It was true an afternoon of contemporary art didn’t necessarily send chills of excitement down Beca’s spine, but she told herself she still had days to think about and compose arrangements, so she tagged along.

 Anything Beca Mitchell knew about art she learned from Chloe Beale: years of Chloe discussing different styles of art and various artists and specific pieces resulted in Beca being loosely versed in the subject. She was by no means a professional, but, in addition to vague knowledge she held, she knew the excitement the French museum would bring Chloe, and that? That was something Beca couldn’t pass up.

Now, though, she was slightly regretting her decision and she wasn’t entirely sure why. Chicago, of course, had come with the group, and he and Chloe were across the gallery studying a painting done by Pierre Bonnard. Chloe seemed to be taking part in a one-sided conversation, probably gushing about the brush strokes or the emotions the artist aimed to elicit. If that was the case, she was currently stumbling over her words as she tried to pour out all of her thoughts, which always happened whenever Chloe talked about something for which she had a passion. Beca smiled just thinking about it.

“Yeah,” she said to Aubrey. “I’m looking at him.”

“That’s even worse, Beca,” Aubrey responded with a scrunched up nose.

“How do you figure? I’m making sure he doesn’t try any sleazy-yet-typical guy moves on Chloe in public.”

“Do you know what that makes you sound like?”

“What does it make me sound like, Aubrey?” Beca replied, sighing. A lecture about life was looming on the horizon; since Beca knew there was no avoiding it, she resolved to get it over with sooner rather than later.

“We are in the South of France,” Aubrey declared abruptly.

The conversation’s sudden shift of focus made Beca hesitate for a second. “...Thank you for that perceptive observation?”

“We are in the South of France, and _she-”_ Aubrey jabbed a finger in Chloe’s direction, “is art among art at this very moment. All the time, really, but particularly now.”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re in love with Chloe?” Beca asked. She wasn’t following where Aubrey was going, but the all too familiar shiver in Beca’s stomach had returned and was demanding to be noticed.

“Are you ever going to give up sarcasm and redirection as defense mechanisms?” Aubrey shot back in a hard voice. Her eyes were narrowed, and, despite the situation, Beca made a mental note to ask Chloe if that’s where she picked up the habit.

“Probably not,” Beca answered honestly. “I’ve been working on it, but...yeah.”

“How long is this going to continue?”

“The defense mechanisms? Aubrey, I just told you-”

“Not the defense mechanisms, Beca!” Aubrey said so loudly that an older couple walking by flinched and threw them dirty looks before moving on.

“Would you get to the point then?” Beca hissed. “I’m not in the mood to play your guessing games.”

“I’m talking about you and Chloe.”

It was delivered in the most casual way - something that was so characteristically Aubrey. And it’s what flustered Beca most of all, even more than the words themselves. Fog descended into her mind and she struggled to think straight.

“I...what?” Beca managed to get out.

“You and Chloe. And your undisclosed, unacknowledged feelings for each other,” Aubrey elaborated, making Beca’s eyes go wide with surprise. Upon sensing an interruption, she pushed on, “No, I don’t have time for your denial. I have been patiently waiting in the wings for the two of you to figure your crap out. Yet, here we are. _Years_ later. Still nothing.” She paused to take a breath.

“Aubrey, I-”

“Nope,” Aubrey cut her off, “still not done. Okay, if you need a catalyst to get things up and running, look no farther: I am heeding the call. Drawing attention to those things you clearly haven’t wanted to think about ever.” She ran a hand through her hair and looked at Beca with an expression of such sympathy, Beca, who wasn’t used to that kind of thing coming from Aubrey, squirmed under the weight of it.

“Are you done now?” Beca inquired flatly.

Aubrey’s voice became softer when she started again, “Almost. Beca, I’m not going to pretend to know what’s going through your head. I don’t know _what_ is between you and Chloe, but I know there’s something. So do you. Apparently, though, you’re more stubborn than I originally thought. Maybe it’s nothing, you know? Or maybe it’s everything. Either way, it would be a damn shame if you had to spend the rest of your life wondering ‘What if?’”

The words started chipping away at Beca’s brain, as though they were trying to uncover something she buried deep and long ago. She pushed the sensation away. Aubrey had lost whatever remaining sanity she possessed - she had to have, to be saying things like that. Feelings? For Chloe? Wouldn’t something like that have been hard to ignore?

Beca clenched her jaw as she mulled over how to respond. She didn’t know what she was thinking - her thoughts were all over the place, and she didn’t exactly trust herself with voicing them at the moment. The only thing Beca was certain about was Aubrey’s lack of rationality. She settled on a safe bet. “How long have you been keeping all that bottled up? Seems like it’s been in there for a while.”

“I first had the urge to say something on the day of your Bella audition,” Aubrey said with a small smile.

“Yeah, well,” Beca replied. She felt like she was hiding her shock at this particular conversation well, but she knew she wasn’t going to last much longer. “You’ve been worrying about other people for far too long. You’ve misplaced your mind along the way.”

“Alright,” Aubrey said, “I can’t do anything more than plant the seed and hope for it to grow, since you’ve been neglecting it for years.”

“You’re so weird,” Beca told her.

Aubrey smiled wider in response. “You bet. Think about it, alright? It’s going to be impossible not to, now that I’ve made you aware of it, but I mean really think about it. The girl is art among art, Beca. Don’t forget it.”

“Do you hear yourself when you speak?”

“She’s my best friend. It is my royal duty to say things like that about her.”

“Whatever,” Beca said with an eyeroll of her own.

“I can sense your annoyance,” Aubrey stated as she started walking backwards away from Beca, “so I’m going. I better hear you’re doing some serious soul searching after this talk we’ve had. I’m serious, Mitchell, we are in-”

“The South of France,” Beca finished for her, “I know, I know. Stop saying that. It means absolutely nothing to me.”

“The South of France,” Aubrey repeated. “Some kind of paradise. See you later.” She turned around and walked into an adjoining room in the gallery.

Beca glanced around and finally let herself feel the emotions she had been suppressing. She wanted to scream. She wanted to kick something. She wanted to...figure out where Aubrey was coming from.

It would have been futile to say her relationship with Chloe was the same as everyone else’s - Beca didn’t waste energy on thinking so. From the very moment Chloe Beale walked into Beca’s shower unannounced, it was crystal clear that any correspondence which followed would be drastically different than what Beca was used to.

Which, naturally, turned out to be true. A large part of Beca’s life had been dedicated to carefully constructing walls to keep others out. She’d learned that most people would give up after one attempt at climbing the walls, some after just seeing the walls.

Until Chloe, that is. Because Chloe was not most people. She wasn’t even just some people. She formed a class of all her own - one that held so much charm and enchantment that the walls seemed to jump aside and escort her into Beca’s life.

Since then, Beca had become accustomed to the abandonment of physical boundaries and long periods of isolation she was a professional in maintaining. However, it didn’t feel like a chore. Before she knew what was even happening she found herself embracing the closeness that came with Chloe, both physical and metaphorical. Beca even found herself looking forward to spending time with Chloe more than anyone else.

Beca’s inclinations were also altered when Chloe meandered her way in; she no longer had to force a smile on her lips - a quick look at Chloe was more than enough to do the job. She doesn’t laugh with other people the way she does with Chloe, and no one but Chloe herself had seen Beca at her lowest points, when she wasn’t certain about anything she said and did.

That didn’t automatically define Beca and Chloe’s relationship as one of romance and true love. Beca was sure there were numerous friendships she had heard of that share similar dynamics and never turned into anything more- 

“Hey.”

Beca closed her eyes as the voice swept over her. Even when she was the origin of the storm in Beca’s mind, Chloe brought with her a sense of peace and calmness no one else could match. It didn’t make much sense, but what in Beca’s life did in that instant?

“Hey,” Beca said back as she turned to look at Chloe.

“How’s the museum treating you?”

“It’s good,” Beca told her with a nod. “It’s...well, you know that one time we were at The Met and you were going on about how much you love French painters and how it’s a dream of yours to see French painters in a French art museum? I get it now. I get it.”

Chloe grinned one of her signature grins that could light up an entire room. “Of course. You didn’t complain a single time that day.”

“What can I say? You bring out the cultured side in me.” Beca realized Chloe was alone now, and although she was reluctant, she was also interested, which prompted her to ask, “So, where’s Chicago?”

Chloe’s smile faltered the tiniest bit, and if anyone but Beca had been present, they wouldn’t have noticed it. “He went outside for a ‘breath of fresh air.’ His words, not mine,” Chloe clarified when she saw Beca’s eyebrows arched in question. “Turns out he’s not the biggest fan of art of any kind.”

“Oof, strike one,” Beca said, shaking her head.

“Strike two, actually,” Chloe responded. “He doesn’t like French literature either.”

Beca clapped a hand to her forehead. “No art, no French literature. What does the man do for _fun_?”

“Tries to make the perfect paper airplane,” Chloe answered grimly. “I’m not kidding. He told me so himself. Anyway, come here. There’s a piece I want to show you.” She grabbed Beca’s wrist and dragged her to the back room of the gallery.

They stood facing a wall that had numerous paintings hung on it, but only one was the center of Chloe’s attention: it depicted people and dream-like events colliding with one another. Or, at least, that’s what Beca got from it.

Chloe was holding Beca’s coat sleeve when she said excitedly, “This is a Marc Chagall. He finished it in 1964, and since then…”

Beca tuned out the words after that. Not because she wasn’t interested - anything Chloe had to say was interesting. But, in the time between Aubrey’s words and Chloe bringing her to the painting, the flutter in Beca’s stomach had grown into a ripple that was coursing throughout her entire body. How quickly it had circulated her system disconcerted Beca.

She gazed at Chloe, and something sparked in her chest. Standing there, watching Chloe immerse herself and get lost in a love of hers, Beca felt her world shift slightly. In a matter of mere seconds, it hit her: Aubrey’s words had successfully unearthed what they were seeking in Beca’s head, and they had done so in a timely manner.

Singing “Titanium” in a disgusting, communal college shower forged a once-in-a-lifetime connection: one that would forever be unparalleled. Meeting Chloe was the dawn of who Beca Mitchell had become - who Beca Mitchell was destined to be. In short, Chloe poured vibrant colors into what would otherwise be a black-and-white-and-occasionally-gray world of Beca’s. 

They had never been strangers; they would never _be_ strangers. From Chloe’s sparkling blue eyes, to the gentle curve of her lips, to the way she bit her lip whenever thinking deeply about something. They were the most familiar, most comfortable things Beca had ever known. She had subconsciously memorized Chloe’s habits and tendencies and they had integrated themselves into Beca’s everyday life.

Chloe Beale was the one constant in Beca’s life. She was the fixed star in the night sky that lead Beca back to safety and stability. She was always there, regardless of the time or the circumstances or Beca’s aversion to her being there. Chloe had never wavered in her loyalty or dedication to Beca, and that alone was enough for the latter to want to keep her around for the rest of time. With Chloe came order in the universe. With Chloe came happiness.

And Aubrey was right: standing there, with literal masterpieces on every wall, Chloe exhibited every bit of grace and beauty and perfection as they did. More so, probably.

“Art among art.”

“What?”

Beca faked a cough to cover up the gasp that escaped her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “Nothing,” she said once she was done. “Just admiring the art. You really know how to pick them.”

“Thanks,” Chloe replied with a smile. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Beca asked, sincerely hoping that the blush in her cheeks wasn’t as noticeable as it felt.

“Like you-” Chloe stopped herself and shook her head. She suddenly looked shy and nervous. “Never mind. We should probably go. Aubrey has us on a super strict schedule as always, and you know she wouldn’t have a problem with leaving us here.”

Beca watched as Chloe removed her grip from the coat sleeve and walked away in search of Aubrey. She wanted to say something. She should have said something. But even the epiphany that Chloe was the most important person in Beca’s life didn’t help clear her head and make it easy to speak.

Better that way, Beca told herself. Because at the moment, no string of words would have done her thoughts and feelings justice.


	3. The One with the Dead Guy's Grave

Beca wasn’t thinking properly. Her thoughts sprinted through her head, each trying to catch up with the others, but never actually doing so.

The great awakening of potentially having deeper-than-she-knew feelings for her best friend was enough to keep Beca awake most of the night, tossing and turning in her bed.

_Think about it, alright?_ Aubrey had said to her, _It’s going to be impossible not to, now that I’ve made you aware of it_. Beca laughed harshly when she remembered the words, and then cursed Aubrey for having the irritating tendency to be right on a consistent basis.

There was one thing Beca knew with certainty: once again, the only person in the world who could at least soothe the turbulence was the same person who had set the whirlwind in motion. It was the most perplexing, arresting paradox.

And it’s what urged Beca to finally forego her fight for sleep all together at six in the morning, get dressed, and walk to the car rental place a few blocks down the road. Every so often, Aubrey’s love of planning and detail produced a satisfactory result: the hotel where the Bellas were staying was centrally located in Saint Paul de Vance, which allowed practically anything and everything to be accessible.

The kid working at Hertz was droopy-eyed and looked like he hadn’t gotten any sleep either. Beca’s presence appeared to surprise him - possibly because she arrived no more than five minutes after the establishment had opened. Fortunately for both of them, the contract was quick work, and Beca drove away ten minutes later in a brand new sleek, black BMW Series 4. The car cost a pretty penny, to the point that, if asked, Beca decided she’d lie and downplay it, but it was also money well spent. Besides, Beca’s options were slim: it was between the expensive BMW or a red soccer mom minivan. Not too difficult a decision.

After parking the rental in the hotel lot, Beca hurried to the elevator. A glance at her phone told her it was only 6:30. They would make good time.

_If_ she agreed to go.

When she reached her room at the end of the 15th floor hallway, Beca inserted her keycard and opened the door when the green light gave her the go ahead. Chloe was there, sitting on her bed and reading one of the many books she’d brought on the trip. She was still in her pyjamas: navy sweatpants and an old black Barden University t-shirt.

Chloe’s good looks had never been lost on Beca. Anyone who ever laid eyes on the girl would be hard pressed to deem her anything less than beautiful. But now, after Aubrey’s vehement words, noticing how pretty Chloe was even in the most casual of clothes made Beca’s heart rate speed up. She’d have to deal with that later on.

“Isn’t it ironic,” Beca said to announce her presence, “for someone who loves reading so much to fail a literature class three times?”

Chloe was grinning before she made eye contact with Beca. “ _Intentionally_ failed a literature class three times,” she corrected with faux haughtiness in her voice.

“Ah, I knew I was forgetting some little detail in that situation.”

“Give me some credit. I could’ve passed with flying colors if it hadn’t been for my allegiance to you,” There was the smallest of pauses, “girls.”

To Beca, the last word sounded like an afterthought. Like Chloe had to remind herself to include it so she encompassed all of the Bellas. Although, Beca didn’t especially think herself fit to be drawing those types of conclusions given recent developments.

“You got there in the end. That’s all that matters.”

“Thank you,” Choe replied, nodding once. “Where were you, by the way? I woke up and there wasn’t a trace of you. No note, no text. You could’ve fallen off the surface of the earth and I wouldn’t have known.”

“Concerned were you?” Beca smiled slyly.

Chloe threw up her shoulders in a shrug. “Mildly interested.”

“Have I ever told you you’re the worst?”

“You have not,” Chloe affirmed. “You’ve told me I’m the best a few times, though.” She put down her book on the nightstand and sat up, hanging her legs over the side of the bed.

Beca let out a snort as it dawned on her more than ever how easy and natural the whole exchange was. How easy and natural everything with Chloe was. She flung herself across her own bed so she was lying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, and gazing at Chloe. “I’ve never said such a thing.”

“Remember when I found your stuffed red panda after it fell between your bed and the wall?” The bright blue eyes held a warmth Beca could not, and would never, get anywhere else. “You said, and I quote, ‘God, Chloe, you’re the best. Thank you so much.’”

“That was spur of the moment,” Beca dismissed, but she was grinning despite herself. “I didn’t actually mean it.”

“You’re the worst,” Chloe replied with a sweet smile. She stood up and began making her way towards the bathroom. “What do you think Aubrey’s gotten us into today?”

Aubrey had sent a text to the group the previous night saying nothing more than, “Meet in the lobby at 9:30. Don’t be late or you will be left to fend for yourself.”

Beca cleared her throat as she moved to sit in a cross legged position. “About that…”

Chloe turned on her heel and rested against the bathroom’s door frame with her head tilted in curiosity.

“What would you say to doing our own thing instead?” Beca finished rather breathlessly.

“You mean ditch Aubrey and her disturbing regiment?”

“Only if you want to,” Beca said as she wrung her hands together. She was a mixture of excitement and nerves and didn’t know which one was winning out.

“No, no,” Chloe answered through a grin, “you mistook my increasing enthusiasm as hesitation. Beca, of course I want to ditch.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah. What are we going to do?”

“Already have that covered,” Beca stated. “Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes.”

Chloe didn’t take a second to think about it; she spun around and went into the bathroom to get ready. Beca smiled to herself on her way out of the room. Days with just Chloe alone had become far and few between for Beca. Before anything else, she and Chloe were friends - which still counted for something, would always count for something.

And maybe the hours ahead of her were going to leave Beca more confused than she already was about Chloe, but it was a chance she was willing to take. It’d be worth it.

The first early risers were ambling to breakfast when Beca got back to the front entrance of the hotel. She headed to the coffee bar tucked into a nook beside the reception desk, grabbed two to-go cups, and pressed out coffee into them from the metal container. Three creams, one sugar, but only if it was the pink packet. A preference Beca knew like it was her own.

A war of emotions was still waging underneath Beca’s skin, but adrenaline was now starting to rush through her, and it acted as a antidote for her crowded mind.

Beca almost bumped into Chloe as she twisted around carefully, a coffee in each hand.

“Whoa, dude, hot liquid here.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Chloe groaned. “Didn’t see you.”

“Was that a subtle dig at my height?” Beca asked with her brow furrowed.

“Definitely not. I would never stoop that low,” Chloe said in a serious tone, but the corners of her lips were twitching as she tried to keep herself from grinning.

“I meant what I said about you being the worst,” Beca responded. “Maybe we should forget doing our own thing and follow Aubrey around.”

“Can’t,” Chloe shot back. “I already texted her so she knows we won’t be participating in group activities today.”

Sarcasm became a compulsion of Beca’s throughout adolescence. Since then, very few people had been able to accept it. There were those who tolerated it, mostly because they had to, but Chloe recognized it as part of who Beca was, and never made her feel guilty about it.

“You did? We better get out of here then. Before she hunts us down with her whistle and blows it in our ears until we do as she says.”

“You’re so weird.” Beca offered Chloe’s coffee to her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. But enough chit chat. Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Chloe inquired as Beca lead her out of the hotel and into the parking lot. “Should I be concerned? Am I dressed appropriately? I wasn’t sure-” She stopped in her tracks when Beca halted in front of the BMW and motioned to it with open arms. “Whoa.”

“Impressive, right? No, you should not be concerned,” Beca said, ticking off the first question on her finger, “yes, you are dressed perfectly.” Chloe had put on a stitched gray sweater, skinny jeans, and black combat boots. Beca would’ve come up with an alternative adjective, but nothing else could do Chloe justice. As usual. “And whatever it was you weren’t sure of, let it go. Today is supposed to be stress-free.”

“I...where did you get this?”

“I stole it,” Beca deadpanned, and Chloe rolled her eyes. “The rental car place down the street, you nerd.”

“It had to cost you an arm and a leg,” Chloe said in disbelief.

“Nah, I drive a hard bargain. I negotiated with the sales guy so he only took a couple of toes from each foot. No actual limbs.”

“You’re hilarious.” There was a soft smile playing on Chloe’s mouth, and Beca knew she wasn’t going to pry for answers. Another admirable thing about Chloe: she always realized when Beca didn’t want to broach a certain subject. If it was important, Chloe was patient enough for Beca to reach the point where she was ready to talk about it. That’s how it worked between them.

“Will you please get in the car now? We have a little ways to go.” Beca walked around to the driver’s side, opened the door, and slid in. She started the car and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.

“You going to tell me where we’re headed?” Chloe asked as she got in and buckled her seatbelt.

“Huh uh,” Beca said. “Trust the element of surprise. Trust _me_ , why don’t ya?”

Chloe either found it in herself to have faith in Beca, or grew tired of Beca dodging questions, because she queried no further.

The two hour drive to Lourmarin passed by largely in silence. After fiddling with the radio dial for a few minutes, Chloe managed to find a station playing jazz music. Then, she settled back in her seat and stared fixedly out the window.

Normally, Chloe would be filling the ride with some sort of conversation, and, normally, Beca would be okay with it. Because Chloe was the only person Beca could hold extended conversations with, even if the topic was something trivial.

As the rolling hills and fields of bright flowers slipped by, though, Beca was grateful for the quiet.

She had no idea how she’d ended up there, trying to keep her head above the swirling waters of her unclear feelings. Aubrey was one explanation; without her speech yesterday Beca would still be stumbling around in the dark, unaware of what lied within her own head.

Yet, in the almost 24 hours since Aubrey had sent Beca’s life askew, the most unsettling aspect was how it hadn’t felt new or foreign. If Beca had been more self-aware, if she would have looked a little closer to see how effortlessly Chloe fit into every corner of her life, she probably would have arrived at the peak of awareness sooner, and without Aubrey’s assistance.

At one point during the trip, after they’d been on the road for more than an hour, Chloe glanced over and stated, “You were amazing up there on stage the other night, you know that, right?”

Beca threw sarcastic comments and humorous retorts off the table as soon as the remark reached her ears. Chloe said it with so much heart and conviction, for a beat, Beca thought it the most wonderful compliment ever given.

“Thank you,” she said in a hoarse voice. “That means more than I can say.” She chanced a look at Chloe, and when she saw how intense the redhead was looking at her, Beca’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes returned to the road out of fear of giving something away.

“I’m not saying that to say it,” Chloe continued. “I mean it, Beca. You...you were born to do things like that.”

It sounded good, but Beca sought a little clarification. “Things like what?”

“Making people feel something. Creating magic.”

Damn Chloe Beale’s ability to make Beca feel like she was the most talented person on the planet in less than ten words. “I don’t really have any response other than ‘Thank you.’ So, thank you.”

“I’m awesome at moral support,” Chloe said, smiling.

“That you are,” Beca sighed. “That you are.”

An hour later, Beca parked the car on a pebble road down from the intended destination. Chloe didn’t say anything as she got out and accompanied Beca to the entrance of the Lourmarin Cemetery.

A better day couldn’t have been conjured up; the sun was slowly ascending into the kind of sky that is so blue it almost looks fake. Almost. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, and the vineyards and valleys that comprised the village of Lourmarin made the scene in front of Beca and Chloe resemble a painting.

“Is this what I think it is?” Chloe murmured. They had walked into the small graveyard, which, at barely nine-thirty in the morning, was empty and still.

“If you’re thinking this is the final resting place of one of your favorite authors, then yes,” Beca confirmed.

Beca first learned of Albert Camus in her senior year of high school. She was supposed to read one of his works, but conveniently never got around to it. For a while she blocked the guy’s existence from her knowledge.

Until, like with countless other things, Chloe. When Beca was a sophomore at Barden, she once asked what Chloe, who was at the beginning of her super senior years, was reading for fun. _The Stranger_ by Camus was the response she received.

After Beca explained how she avoided reading that very title, Chloe became offended, as though she was the one who had written the novel. She then proceeded to read a chapter to Beca, which was a common occurrence when Chloe read a book in which she was exceptionally invested.

It was infinitely better than Beca had forseen it being. And sure, Beca still hadn’t read it cover to cover, but she was much more interested in legitimately completing that task now than she was back in high school.

“I remembered you saying something about Camus being buried in the South of France when we first left for this trip,” Beca went on as they began to stroll among the tombstones and plots. “Hours of excruciating research last night lead me to being spontaneous today.”

“You planned this in one night?” Chloe asked in amazement.

“Yeah, Chlo, I was being dramatic. It wasn’t difficult at all. It took me one minute to find out where he’s buried - Google is wonderful, don’t forget that. Add two more minutes to get a map and directions, and that’s all there is to it.”

For potentially the first time in forever, Chloe seemed genuinely speechless at what Beca had done for her. She finally succeeded in uttering, “That was...incredibly thoughtful of you.”

The cemetery was full of trees and plants and flowers. It was small and had pebble walkways. The dates on headstones, which came in all shapes and sizes, went back centuries ago, and Beca couldn’t imagine how much history was contained in such a small area.

“I actually wasn’t even going to pitch the idea of coming at all,” she admitted.

“What? Why?”

“Honestly? I wasn’t sure if you would want to.”

“Beca, why on earth would I not want to come _here_?” She opened her arms and gestured around.

Beca bit her lip as she weighed her response options. “I guess...I figured you’d want to stick with the group.” Pause. Deep breath. “And, y’know, I assumed you and Chicago had plans or...or whatever.”

There was an unreadable expression on Chloe’s face. “You think I’d pick the rest of the group over you? I’m sorry, how long have you known me?”

When Beca realized an answer was expected, she said, “Quite a few years.”

“Quite a few years,” Chloe repeated firmly. “That means you should know my proclivities by now.”

“What are you saying right now?”

“I’m saying, I didn’t walk into the shower of anyone else in the group.” Chloe’s eyes seemed impossibly bluer set against the picture-perfect day, and they were glimmering with something other than sunlight. She walked ahead of Beca and resumed her observation of grave markings. “As for Chicago,” she went on, “I’m pretty sure he’s never heard of Albert Camus. He wouldn’t have done this for me. He’s not you.”

Beca wasn’t sure if she heard correctly and was about to ask Chloe to repeat what she’d said, but Chloe pulled up short and her eyes grew wide.

“Wow,” she breathed.

Beca hurried to her side and looked down:

_Albert Camus_

_1913-1960_

It was an inconspicuous gravesite; if a person wasn’t in search of it, like Chloe, they would pass by it all together. The stone was plain and surrounded by grass. To think a Nobel Literature Prize winner was under such common ground was bewildering.

“It’s so fitting,” Chloe said softly.

Beca moved her eyes upward to gaze at Chloe: her face was etched with awe and wonder, and Beca didn’t think she would ever see something so beautiful.

“You’re looking at me like that again,” Chloe stated without breaking her stare at the grave.

“Like what?”  Beca shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

“Like you were yesterday at the museum.”

Art among art.

“It’s nothing,” Beca said, “it’s just...you look like how I felt when I was on stage in front of all those people.”

“And I feel like how you looked when you were on stage in front of all those people.” Chloe smiled a small, shy smile.

“Everything’s right in the world?”

“Right now?” Chloe glanced around at the cemetery, the hills surrounding it, the village it overlooked.  “Yeah, everything’s right in the world.”

Beca nodded in understanding. “You deserve to feel like that every day. In case no one’s ever told you that.”

“Has anyone told _you_ that?”

“Not yet. Maybe someday.”

“Beca?” Chloe poked her in the shoulder. When their eyes met she went on, “You deserve to feel like that every day too.”

The silence that followed was deafening, and Beca was worried she was going to pass out on the spot. A desire to crash her lips to Chloe’s came out of nowhere, somewhere, everywhere all at once. One millisecond it wasn’t there, the next it was. Is that how those kinds of things happen?

Beca dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands to keep herself from doing something rash. Chloe stood there in front of Beca, looking beautiful and flawless and like she was more than willing to be the source of that feeling for Beca for the rest of eternity.

The throng of thoughts and emotions parted in Beca’s mind and everything she had been wrestling with melted into one crystal clear piece of information. There, in the cemetery of Lourmarin, standing above the grave of a famous French novelist, Beca fell into the terrifying realization that she was unequivocally in love with Chloe Beale.

 


	4. The One with the Scariest Thing in the Godforsaken World

Parties weren’t high up on Beca’s priority list. She knew the value of an open bar, and she appreciated the taste of high-end alcohol, but large groups of intoxicated people - usually strangers - doing things they’d regret if they even remembered them the next morning were beyond Beca’s realm of comprehension. So, parties weren’t her forte. Parties without an emotional shield or someone to keep her sanity intact were even a bigger inconvenience for Beca.

Which, loosely translated, meant any party Beca went to where Chloe was not in attendance was her definition of a nightmare. Over the years, Chloe had developed a habit of creating life stories behind the people who’d consumed the most alcohol at a social gathering, and she would always share them with Beca. It kept Beca calm and entertained on countless occasions, and slowly grew to be the main reason she agreed to go places in the first place.

When Beca returned to the hotel after driving back from Lourmarin with Chloe, she finally checked her phone and was met with five missed calls, and accompanying voicemails, from her new friend Theo. They all said the same thing: return his call at her earliest convenience. Beca quickly succumbed to the interest in what Theo wanted.

There was another party, he explained. This time in Beca’s honor. DJ Khaled wanted to introduce Beca to the rest of his “people,” wanted to show everyone how he had hooked the next big up-and-comer. It would be the following evening, meaning, as Theo kindly pointed out, Beca had a sizeable window to go shopping and pick out something to her liking.

If given a choice, Beca probably would have opted to skip it. Not because she wasn’t thankful for what Theo and DJ Khaled were doing, but because being the center of attention was maybe the only thing worse than parties. But Theo didn’t exactly ask Beca to attend the party; he provided the invitation apparently under the assumption that Beca would automatically be there.

Consequently, the day after living in a world that revolved around Chloe and Chloe only, Beca found herself wandering the shops on the streets around the Bellas’ hotel. It also meant that she had to shelve her revelation about being in love for the time being.

She left Chloe a note explaining where she was and why, told her she’d see her later, and set off early.

It took Beca approximately the whole day to finally find a dress she liked and could afford. She picked a long black gown with mesh panels on the side. It had a fairly lengthy leg slit, which, Beca figured, would be risqué enough for a party in a penthouse.

By the time Beca got back to the hotel, she only had two hours until a car would be parked out front ready to take her to one of  DJ Khaled’s apartments in another part of the town. She still had to get used to the perks of setting off on a world tour would bring.

She showered quickly, dried her hair, curled it, and did her makeup. Once she was pleased with what she saw in the mirror, Beca slid into the dress and went in search of shoes to wear. She was rifling through one of her many bags of belongings when she heard the room door click shut.

“Oh, Becs, good, you’re here. You’ll never guess what Amy - wow.”

Beca straightened up to find Chloe gawking at her with wide eyes and a slightly ajar mouth. She tried not to read too much into it.

“Hey. You got my note this morning?”

“Uh...yeah,” Chloe said, clamping her jaw shut. “Yeah, I did. I was hoping I’d see you before you left tonight.”

Beca smiled at the notion. “Me too. What’d you guys do today?”

“Went to the vineyards,” Chloe informed her. “Amy got drunk and flipped a table.”

“So a pretty typical day then?”

“Precisely what you would expect from us at a winery, yes.”

 Beca chuckled and balanced herself with a hand on the desk so she could put on the heels she found at the bottom of her biggest bag. “Would you mind zipping me up?” She wasn’t going to ask, was going to stop at Amy or Emily’s room to see if they were there and could do it. But asking Chloe seemed easier. And...nicer.

“Of course.”

Chloe moved gracefully behind Beca and pulled the zipper. Beca closed her eyes as she tried to ignore the weight of one of Chloe’s hands gently resting on the small of her back, while Chloe’s fingertips whispered across Beca’s spine as she secured the dress, leaving a fire along their path.

“There you go,” Chloe murmured. Her hands remained an instant longer before she removed them.

“Thanks, dude,” Beca forced out. She didn’t want to give herself time to think about the longing she had just felt, so she grabbed her clutch off her bed and walked towards the door. “Okay, well, I have to go. They sent a car and it’s probably here by now.” The words came out in a rush.

“Wow, how fancy are you?” Chloe grinned.

“Super fancy,” Beca said. “I’m not sure how late I’ll be.”

“I’ll be here,” Chloe responded, and it seemed to have a different context. “Have fun.”

Beca was halfway out the door when Chloe called her name. “Yeah?”

“You look gorgeous.”

Beca couldn’t help the smile that spread across her lips. “Thank you,” she replied, but it was so quiet she wasn’t sure if Chloe heard her. She continued on her way feeling lighter and happier than ten minutes ago.

True to DJ Khaled’s word, there was a car waiting out front of the hotel for Beca. The driver opened and closed the door for her without more than a smile for a greeting.

The drive passed smoothly and quickly, and before Beca had time to mentally prepare herself, she was being ushered into the the wide, spacious flat which consisted of practically gold everything.

Theo was there suddenly, among tens of other people, and he slung an arm around Beca’s shoulder.

“There she is, our woman of the hour,” he announced to those around him. Beca attempted a smile, but came up short. “You look gorgeous.” As nice as it was for Theo to say it, the words simply didn’t mean as much coming from him.

She was then thrown into introductions of at least twenty strangers, each with a last name like “Wentworth” or “Windsor” or something else that exuded wealth and significance. They came from various music labels or recording studios. Theo guided her around with a hand on her back, occasionally checking to see how she was doing and if she was sick of the other guests yet.

“So,” Theo said after more than an hour of Beca fielding questions about how she got her start in music and where she gets her inspiration, “how’re you feeling?”

They had excused themselves to the balcony and were looking over the fields and gardens that laid behind DJ Khaled’s apartment.

“You mean about all of those people in there? Or about the world tour we’re starting in less than a week?” Beca played with the clasp on her clutch. The amount of people who had talked her ear off was overwhelming, and she wished more than ever she had a distraction at the party.

“Everything,” Theo answered. He was looking at Beca with admiration and fascination: the way he had from the first time they met.

“Well, I would certainly be much better off without them gooning at me all night,” Beca said truthfully. “The tour is a different story. I’m ready for it. I’m excited.”

“You should be. Have you given thought to what your set is going to look like?”

Beca nodded. “I’m still kicking around a few ideas, but we’re getting there.”

“Good, Beca, that’s good. As long as you make sure to include Freedom! ‘90.” Theo smiled a big, genuine smile. “A request from the boss man himself.”

“About that,” Beca commented, glancing into the party where people were still mingling, “is he ever going to show up to this party? Seeing as it’s at his home?”

“Not tonight, I’m afraid,” Theo said through a chuckle. “He sent out the invites, made sure everyone heard your performance from the other night, and left the rest up to fate.”

“Fascinating.”

“Beca, he’s trying to get your name out there before you even begin. This is a good thing.”

“I get that,” Beca told him, “I do. It’s all...a lot. And it’s happening faster than I thought it would.” She left out the part where now she had other things to worry about - other _people_ to worry about.

“Understandable. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, though. I’m sure you know that.”

“Of course I do.” She did, but it didn’t make the nearby future any less intimidating. Beca didn’t do well with that kind of pressure. Usually, she’d have someone nearby to help keep her head screwed on straight. Not tonight, though.

“You’re going to be living out your dreams these next few months, Beca.” Theo gave her a nod and then started back to the glass doors to reenter the party.

The night went by in a blurry haze for Beca. While she answered the questions thrown at her in as much detail as possible, her mind was preoccupied.

Living out her dreams up on stage sounded good in theory. But wasn’t it a universal desire to have someone to share those dreams with? One person, more than anyone else, to be there in the greatest moments of life, and every one of the bad ones that come along?

Beca had that person. It took her until yesterday to figure that out, but she had that person, and she never wanted to give her up. Not for anything.

As Beca thought this, a sensation of selfishness snuck into her head. It wasn’t fair to want Chloe to be that person for Beca. Chloe deserved someone who could give her everything. Someone who gave as much to Chloe as Chloe gives to the world. Beca wasn’t confident she could be that person.

Yet, Beca was still selfish enough to love her. Still selfish enough to want Chloe to be the person who listened to her dreams, and knocked her off her soapbox when she became too obsessed with dreaming. The person who was there at the end of every day come hell or high water.

It wasn’t fair to Chloe. The thought came crashing down on her and she felt her chest constrict.

People were still talking around her, but now she had blocked them out entirely. The buzzing of their voices became too much, and Beca stood up abruptly.

“Beca?” Theo asked uncertainly. He got up halfway from his seat on the couch and watched her.

“I have to go,” Beca announced. If she didn’t sort out what was going on in her head soon it was going to explode. “Sorry, Theo, I’ll talk to you later.” She didn’t wait for anymore questions or remarks, just marched out the door and into the elevator. The driver was hanging around in the complex’s lobby, and jumped into action as soon as he saw Beca.

After what felt like hours, Beca was speed-walking through the hotel and banging buttons in order to get upstairs quicker.

On the 15th floor, Beca banged unceremoniously on a door a few down from her own. She hadn’t known what else to do or who else to turn to except for the obvious choice.

A tired, disheveled Aubrey flung open to door as Beca was mid-knock. “What the hell, Beca?” She was clad in purple and pink silk pajamas, and it was only then Beca realized she didn’t know what time it was.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But I need you. Right now. Before I fuck something up.”

“It’s two o’clock in the morning, do you realize that?” Aubrey asked slowly.

“Actually, I didn’t. I do now, and I’m sorry, Aubrey, I really am. But this is important.” She grabbed Aubrey’s hand and pulled her back towards the elevator. Aubrey was awake enough to reach back and pull her door closed.

Neither of them said anything as they crossed the lobby and went out into the parking lot, where Beca dropped her hold of Aubrey. It was a warm night, and a gentle breeze was the only disturbance in the air.

“Is this a life or death situation?”

“Maybe,” Beca replied. “It’s...about me and Chloe.”

“I’m sorry,” Aubrey began after a yawn, “you dragged me out to the parking lot at the crack of dawn to talk about feelings?”

“Aubrey, please,” Beca practically begged. “I walked out of a DJ Khaled party because of this.”

“Wow,” Aubrey said, “that’s intense.”

“So will you at least hear me out?”

“Of course I will, Beca. If it’s enough to make you leave in the middle of a DJ Khaled party, it’s enough for me to listen to. Even at this time.”

“Thanks.”

“That was a joke. I’d listen even if you hadn’t walked out of that party.”

“Sure, okay,” Beca responded. “I just...need to get things straight.”

“That’s funny,” Aubrey remarked as her lips twitched.

“This is not a discussion of my sexuality,” Beca retorted, although she knew if it had been any other time she would’ve smiled too.

“Good point. I’m sorry. Now, what exactly are you expecting from me here?” Aubrey’s eyes followed Beca as she paced back and forth. “Am I supposed to give my input?”

“I’m thinking things through out loud,” Beca explained, not interrupting her strides. “I need an outlet.”

“And you have chosen me for that position?”

“You got me into this whole thing. If I go down, you’re coming with me.”

“Me?” Aubrey asked. She had shaken off any lingering sleep and was attentive. “You’re blaming this on _me_?”

“Yeah, you know, I am,” Beca said.

“How does that make any sense whatsoever?”

“You had to go and stick your butt where your butt doesn’t belong, and now I’m in love with Chloe!” Beca exclaimed.

“That’s not the expression-”

“Guess how much I care.”

“But,” Aubrey continued as if Beca hadn’t said anything, “I’m not sure what else you have to think through, considering you seem to already have accepted it.”

“Accepted what?” Beca was still pacing and she felt like she was only half listening to what was going on with Aubrey.

“You’re in love with Chloe,” Aubrey replied, slightly confused at what Beca was missing. But the words caught Beca’s full attention: she stood in place and stared at Aubrey with a hard expression. “Don’t look at me like that,” Aubrey went on. “You quite literally admitted it a minute ago.”

“I said it...out loud?”

“‘You had to go and stick your butt where your butt doesn’t belong, and now I’m in love with Chloe,’” Aubrey reiterated. “So, yes. You said it. Out loud.”

“Holy shit,” Beca breathed.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Aubrey inquired. “Did you actually not realize it yet? Or did you forget this isn’t news to me?”

“It’s the first time I said it out loud,” Beca said in a quiet voice. It was true. And it was stupefying.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well.”

“Shockingly, this portion of the conversation isn’t helping.”

Aubrey was standing with her hands on her hips as she scrutinized Beca keenly. “If it’s any consolation, you sounded like you really meant it.”

“I did,” Beca asserted. “I do.”

“You love Chloe.” There wasn’t a hint of Aubrey’s tone that was questioning; it was a statement, a validation of a sentiment she long since figured out.

“Yes.”

“Say it again.” There was the familiar commanding undertone in Aubrey’s otherwise gentle delivery of the words.

“Why?” Beca had resumed her pacing and was finding it somewhat difficult to breathe evenly. “Saying it out loud makes it real.”

“Yeah, Beca, that’s kind of the whole point of this interaction.”

Aubrey was right, as per usual, but Beca would take that knowledge to the grave with her. Since starting her freefall into the abyss of loving Chloe a day ago, and, more recently, since the part, Beca’s mind had been drowned in second guesses and self doubt. Approaching the idea of spilling her heart and soul to Chloe resulted in that negativity consumed Beca and sent her fleeing in the other direction.

Speaking the words - making the conscious decision to pass them by her lips and into the world - petrified Beca to such an extent she thought maybe she had been dreaming the past 48 hours and made the whole situation up.

“I can’t do this,” Beca said into the stillness between herself and Aubrey.

“Why not?”

Aubrey Posen was a lot of things: bossy, controlling, overbearing, among others. But, when it mattered most, she was also patient and thoughtful. At the beginning of Beca’s freshman year at Barden, if someone would have told her she would one day be grateful for Aubrey’s existence, she would have died of laughter.

“It’s...scary,” Beca told Aubrey now. She sounded desperate, which wasn’t far from the truth, and was beginning to admit defeat at the hands of her emotions.

“Beca, it’s love,” Aubrey answered delicately. “It’s the scariest thing this godforsaken world has to offer.”

“Aubrey,” Beca ceased pacing again and stared weakly at the blonde, “I don’t think you get it.”

To Beca’s surprise, Aubrey nodded her head in agreement and crossed her arms. “You’re right. I don’t. Please enlighten me.”

There didn’t appear to be another option. Unsure of the best starting point, Beca let the words flow from her, hoping somehow they would make sense. “This is Chloe we’re talking about. Chloe. She’s my best friend. She’s...every particle of goodness has been poured into her. She’s the kindest, gentlest, most considerate person I have ever met. She cares about people, I mean, really cares about them and goes out of her way to make them happy. She has those eyes that can make you feel like there’s something worth living for, and that goddamn smile that puts everyone else’s to shame.”

There was a faint trace of a smile on Aubrey’s face, but she didn’t say anything. She merely nodded in encouragement and waited Beca to finish.

“And I’m…” Beca carried on after taking a deep breath, “not any of those things. I’m dark and dreary. I push people away, to the point that they get sick of me and give up. I’m stubborn. I don’t like letting people in. Chloe doesn’t deserve that. No one does.”

Aubrey nodded again and waited to see if Beca was going to add anything else. After a few seconds of nothing, she asked, “Beca, who was the first person at Barden to know your birthday?”

“Chloe.” It hadn’t been revealed from lack of effort: conversation between Beca and Chloe progressed so easily Beca had casually let it slip one day.

“Mhmm. And who was the first person to find out about your secret love of Taylor Swift?”

“Chloe.” Years ago, after learning the singer was having a concert in Atlanta and desperately wanting to go, Beca had divulged her guilty pleasure to the only person she knew wouldn’t relentlessly make fun of her.

“When you got that internship at the music studio your senior year, who was the one person you didn’t want finding out because you were afraid you’d hurt her?”

“Chloe.” Duh. Beca would do _that_ one all over again if she could.

“Right. Okay, last one, and this one is super easy,” Aubrey said. “Who was the only person to ever walk into a shower of yours and you hardly even questioned it?”

Beca sighed. “Chloe.”

Aubrey nodded once more. “Why do you think I asked you those questions?”

“So I could see how big a part Chloe is in my life?” Beca guessed.

“And…”

Aubrey waited expectantly while Beca bit her lip in thought.

“Aubrey-”

“I’m not helping you on this one. It’s your turn to put the pieces together. Think about what you told me you’re afraid of, and what I just asked you about.” Aubrey paused. “What does it mean? You know this, Beca. You’ve known it for a while now I’d say.”

“It means…” Beca turned everything over in her head, but it didn’t take long to click into place: those walls Beca erected to keep people out didn’t jump aside and escort Chloe in. Because there had never been any walls when it came to Chloe - they vanished the moment she entered Beca’s life. “It means I couldn’t keep Chloe out of my life if I tried.”

“Oh, thank god,” Aubrey threw her hands up in relief, “the girl does have some sense after all.”

“That’s all fine and dandy and everything, but she’s still my best friend,” Beca reminded Aubrey.

“And?”

“ _And_ I don’t want to risk losing that. I can’t lose that.” The second part was said mostly to herself.

“Beca,” Aubrey replied, “you just provided an answer to that concern. You couldn’t keep Chloe out of your life if your life depended on it. Whatever happens, you’re always going to have each other.”

 Beca didn’t have a good response. She had dragged Aubrey out of bed to talk through the churnings in her head, and had succeeded in that. It made Beca feel better - more confident in her thoughts and feelings.

With that in mind, Beca said the only thing left to say, “I love Chloe. I’m in love with Chloe.” Saying them out loud and meaning the words with the entirety of her soul brought about liberation for Beca and made her feel better than she thought herself capable of.

The grin that broke out on Aubrey’s face made Beca smile widely too. “Yeah, you ass, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“Can’t you just be proud of me for once?”

“I am proud of you, Beca,” Aubrey said sincerely. “Really. I can only imagine how terrifying all this is. But you deserve to embrace it. You deserve something _good_. So does she.”

“Thank you,” Beca answered with as much gratitude she could muster. “I can’t really believe you’re the one to help me with this whole thing, but I appreciate it, Aubrey. Seriously.”

Aubrey’s grin slid into a devious smile. “Does this mean we’re friends?”

Beca put up her hands to stop Aubrey. “Whoa, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s go with acquaintances.”

Aubrey laughed lightly. “Whatever.” A second later she snapped into business mode. “Alright, you know what you need to do next, right?”

She did. And it was seemingly more frightening than coming to terms with the emotions themselves. “Throw up?”

“No,” Aubrey said with a roll of her eyes. “Everything you told me? All of those feelings and concerns and thoughts? You have to tell _her_. Especially that last thing.”

“That’s basically the same thing I said,” Beca informed her. Aubrey reached out to hit Beca across the arm, but Beca dodged her. “Fine, fine,” she surrendered. “But do you understand how nerve wracking it is to just think about doing that?”

“Sure I do. The alternative, though, is going about your life, in which Chloe will be present, and keeping this to yourself. Do you really think you could do that?”

“No,” Beca conceded. Now that her feelings were out in the open and she had accepted them, Beca knew she’d have to share them with the person of her affections at some point.

“Good answer. Everything you said to me was great and endearing, but Beca, it doesn’t mean anything when it’s said to me.”

“What if she thinks I’m out of my mind? What if she doesn’t feel the same way? She definitely doesn’t feel the same way.” It was a worry Beca had been holding onto since the first conversation with Aubrey at Fondation Maeght. Now, it seemed a bigger and more probable possibility.

Aubrey looked at Beca in astonishment. “Are we talking about the same Chloe here? The one who, I say again, _walked into your shower_? The one who got you to join the Bellas even when you were hellbent on not? The one who made us stay up all night long when you were in jail just so we could make sure you were okay?”

“I get it,” Beca intervened. Her anxieties were finally retreating and were being replaced by the kind of happiness only Chloe could produce. “And the worst case scenario?”

“She’ll know how you feel, and you’ll know how she feels.”

“Right,” Beca agreed after a momentary pause. “At least I’ll know.”

She and Aubrey looked at each other steadily before Aubrey asked, “Can I go back to bed now?”

Beca laughed as she lead the way back into the hotel. “Let’s go.”

“Are you gonna be okay? Given the roommate pairings and whatnot?”

“Yeah,” Beca said with conviction. “I’m beyond scared and nervous, and seriously, I might actually throw up. But I’ll be okay. Won’t have to worry about it until for a few more hours at least.”

“When are you going to tell her?” It was clear Aubrey was doing everything in her power to keep the sheer excitement out of her voice.

“God, man, I don’t know,” Beca grumbled. “I _just_ put it all together. Give me some time to figure out what to say.”

“Be honest,” Aubrey said. “That’s the best you can do.”

Beca nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t respond. Whatever she was going to say to Chloe would have to wait; exhaustion was setting in. Among it, however, Beca felt a thrill run through her when her thoughts wandered to Chloe, which was frequently.

As the elevator opened to them, Beca threw a glance to her side.

“Hey, Aubrey?”

“Yes?”

“I guess we’re sort of friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the love and support :) To think I wasn't even going to share this story at first is wild. Hope you continue to enjoy!


	5. The One with Everything Beca Wants

If Aubrey could send out formal invitations every time the Bellas hung out together, she would. It wasn’t necessarily as nice as it sounded: she wanted the girls to know where to be and exactly when to be there, no exceptions.

When intricate stationery wasn’t accessible, which was a rarity for Aubrey, she settled with a quick text in the group message with nothing more than the time and the place of the get together. After years of putting up with the habit, the Bellas no longer questioned it. They showed up on time; with Aubrey Posen in their lives that meant 5 minutes earlier than the time designated on the invitation or in the text, and not a second later.

So, as Beca and Chloe flung open the door to Amy’s hotel room, they braced themselves for Storm Aubrey - something that was waiting for them two feet away with hands on her hips and an restlessly tapping foot.

“How nice of you two to grace us with your presence,” Aubrey said in a sarcasm-saturated voice. Beca, having been on the receiving end of that tone too much, cowered behind Chloe, who rolled her eyes.

“Please,” she answered as she reached around Beca to shut the door, “you say that as though this was a royal birthday. It’s a girls night. A repeat, if you will, of the one we had just last week.”

“Yeah,” Beca affirmed with fake confidence. She peeked around Chloe so she could glare at Aubrey. “Besides, we’re only-” she grabbed Chloe’s wrist to look at her watch, and finished soberly, “...25 minutes late.”

“You have known about this for 12 hours, how on earth do you still manage to be _25 minutes_ late?”

Beca and Chloe were spared of having to provide an explanation to Aubrey as Emily walked up to them.

“Hey, guys, there you are,” she said brightly. “We’ve been waiting for you. Aubrey was, what, five minutes away from a brain aneurysm?”

“Funny,” Aubrey replied, her face icy in appearance.

“I know, right?” Emily turned to Beca and Chloe. “Where’ve you been?”

“Shopping,” they responded in unison.

“Shopping for _books_ ,” Beca clarified. “Which should explain the tardiness. You know how Chloe gets around books.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Chloe dismissed with a wave of her hand, but she was smiling. “We’re here now. So let’s get this night started.” She threw an arm around Emily’s shoulders and the two went in search of drinks.

“So,” Aubrey said to Beca.

“So what?” Beca asked as her eyes followed Chloe across the room.

“Have you told her yet?”

Beca’s stare slid to Aubrey and she gaped at her. “What? No. God, no.”

“Well, why not?” Aubrey wondered impatiently. It slightly baffled Beca how invested Aubrey was in the development of her relationship with Chloe, but after all the help and advice Aubrey had provided, Beca didn’t think she had room to question it.

“Because I have no idea what to say to her,” Beca explained. “It’s also terrifying, as we already established two nights ago.”

“Some people would just, you know, tell her the truth,” Aubrey said matter of factly. “Just tell her you love her.”

“Dude, shhh,” Beca hissed. “Someone will hear you.”

“Maybe that someone will be Chloe and you won’t have to prepare some long, romantic speech.”

“Not funny,” Beca said through clenched teeth.

“Kind of funny,” Aubrey retorted, and now she was smiling softly. “Seriously, Beca, we’ve been over this, all you can do is be honest with her. The rest is up to fate.”

“Fate is stupid.”

“Unless it tips in your favor.”

“What about Chicago?”

He’d been a concern of Beca’s since she started sorting out her thoughts and feelings, but she hadn’t really focused on him until after the late night talk with Aubrey. The last thing she wanted was to be some sort of relationship-wrecking-ball. If he truly made Chloe happy, Beca had begrudgingly decided, she would find it in herself to swallow her pride and emotions and let them be. Even if she had to dip to the bottoms of her being to find that part which allowed her to move on.

“What about him?”

“Aubrey, he’s still in the picture or whatever,” Beca pointed out. “And I am not going to turn into a homewrecker. Especially if it’s Chloe I’m homewrecking.”

“Dude,” Aubrey returned in a hard tone, and Beca was somewhat surprised the girl didn’t stomp her foot, “will you please stop looking for ways to get out of telling her? Chicago or no Chicago, you are in love with her. You’re also about to jet around the world for months, so now might be the only chance in the foreseeable future to tell her.”

That was true; so true, it actually made Beca’s chest ache when she thought about keeping everything in her head to herself. She was shocked she hadn’t spontaneously combusted from the amount of thoughts.

“Why do you have to know everything?” Beca mumbled, and Aubrey grinned.

“It’s about time you admitted it.”

Cynthia Rose approached them then, ceasing the conversation about Beca’s affections of the heart.

“Sorry to interrupt this meeting of minds or whatever’s going on here, but, Aubrey, Amy is asking for your assistance in finding her yellow bra.”

Beca’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “There is a whole lot wrong with what you said.”

“Why the hell does she need my help?” Aubrey asked. “This is her room.”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” Cynthia Rose defended herself. “She’s going on, like, her eighth drink since this shindig started. I’m not sure all of the pieces are still there.”

“Would you girls even know what to do with yourselves if I wasn’t around?” Aubrey started walking away from Beca to deal with the Amy situation, and Cynthia Rose trailed behind. “I mean, honestly.”

“No,” Beca responded to Aubrey’s question, but _that_ was something she knew she’d keep locked up forever.

Ten minutes later Beca was squished between Flo and Emily on the leather couch in the middle of Amy’s deluxe suite. It was still unknown how she had snagged such an impressive room all for herself.

The rest of the Bellas were scattered around in a circle: Chloe was sharing the oversized chair with Aubrey directly across from where Beca sat; Cynthia Rose was sitting against the couch with her legs outstretched; Jessica and Ashley were huddled together, leaning on the wall for support; Amy was sprawled out in the center of the floor with her head propped up on a hand; and Lily - or, Ester, Beca still wasn’t actually sure what they were supposed to call her now - had dragged a barstool over and was sitting on it cross-legged, looking like she was meditating.

“What exactly are we doing here?” Flo inquired as she glanced around at everyone.

“Yeah,” Cynthia Rose picked up, “not that I don’t want to be here with you lovely ladies, but what’s up with the sleepovers? We’ve been spending all day together, do we really need to sleep together too?”

“I have gathered you bitches here,” Amy, who sounded fairly sober considering how much alcohol she’d consumed already, announced, “because in just a few days time, we will once again be going our separate ways. Some of us will be going back to glamorous lives, some of us will...not. And one of us will be touring the world as the most talented, badass opening act we’ve ever seen.”

Beca smiled and nodded her head in appreciation. She felt the blush creep into her cheeks, but Chloe was beaming at her and that was enough to keep Beca from completely changing the topic.

“The first day of the rest of our lives as a family,” Aubrey stated proudly.

“Weren’t we a family before?” Emily asked with a crestfallen look on her face.

“Hell yeah we were, Legacy,” Amy assured her, “but the whole trekking across Europe and then getting stuck there thing bonds a group of ladies in a special way.”

“We’re closer now than we were before the USO performances,” Flo said. “I feel like I can share my whole backstory with you guys now, and you’d still accept me for who I am.”

“You’ve already shared a lot of details from your past, Flo,” Aubrey cut in. “Sometimes more than we’d probably care to know, but yes, we accept you.”

“Yo, we almost died while we were here. Literally,” Cynthia Rose supplied. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s the most hardcore connection people can have with each other.”

“You’re right,” Amy agreed. “I really am sorry about the guy I called my dad. If I had known he was still a punk ass-”

“Thanks, Amy,” Emily interrupted. “We also accept your apology.”

“Right,” Amy said, sitting up, “with that, I suggest we play Truth or Dare!”

Silence fell among the group as they waited to see how serious she was. When it became evident she was very serious about playing, Aubrey broke out into laughter. “I am not playing Truth or Dare.”

“Why not?” Amy demanded. “None of us is drunk enough to do anything stupid. We’re good to go.”

“No way,” Aubrey threw back. “We - sorry, most of us - are too old and mature to be playing that middle school game. It’s a hard pass from me.”

“How about we just play Truth then?” Flo proposed. “We can ask the really hard hitting questions in life.”

“Truth or...Truth?” Amy considered. “I like it.”

There were nods around the circle, even hesitant ones from Beca and Aubrey.

“Nice,” Cynthia Rose said and clapped her hands together. “I’ll ask first. Amy, do you ever regret your breakup with Bumper?”

Not even a second passed before Amy produced an answer.

“Nope. I really thought I could learn to enjoy being tied down to one person for the rest of my life, but it was horrible. He was just always around, you know? I need between 18 and 20 hours a day to nothing but me, myself, and I.”

The rest of the Bellas chuckled because it was so characteristically Amy. They had to give it to her for trying, though.

“Chloe,” Emily started, “time to get you involved in the conversation.” The redhead smiled and tilted her head to the side in preparation for Emily’s question. “This thing with the guy in the uniform, how serious is it in reality?”

Beca had to suppress the urge to jab Emily in the side with an elbow. She didn’t want to know the answer to that question. Apparently, everyone else did, because they were looking at Chloe expectantly and with interest.

Chloe’s face fell somewhat as she contemplated the question. “It’s, uh, you know...he’s cute. And cool and funny.”

“Yeah, but how _serious_ is it?” Amy prompted. “Rumor has it you laid a big ol’ smooch on him after Beca’s performance.”

Beca really didn’t need to be hearing any of this. She stared hard at the rings on her fingers and began twisting them to occupy her mind.

But Chloe’s response shattered the barrier in Beca’s thoughts. “Honestly? Not too serious. The kiss was...full disclosure, I have no idea what the first kiss was. I was caught up in everything and it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“It wasn’t?” Emily asked.

Chloe shrugged. “Does it matter? All I know is, I’m not sensing forever with him.”

Relief swept over Beca; she couldn’t stop herself from smiling and ducked her head to hide it.

“Fair enough,” Aubrey allowed. “Okay, Beca. My turn to ask you something.”

Beca should have seen it coming. She had walked herself right into Aubrey’s beckoning when she agreed to play the dumb game, and now she was going to have to face those repercussions.

“No, Aubrey, I will still not take the ear monstrosities out,” Beca deadpanned with a sweet smile. Chloe snorted, and yeah, Beca had yet again used slight redirection as a defense mechanism, but Chloe was grinning again, so it was beyond worth it.

“Some things never change,” Aubrey commented. She was smiling, too, though, proving that some things do change - and for the better. “But not what I was going to ask. In less than a week you are leaving for a multi-country tour.” Beca nodded. “What’s your biggest fear?”

It wasn’t as tough a question as Beca anticipated. Because it was something she’d been thinking about since agreeing to tour with DJ Khaled, which meant the answer came quickly and effortlessly.

“Losing you all.”

It was an all-Bellas inclusive response, but Beca’s eyes were locked on Chloe’s when she said it. And the very brief pause between the second and third words potentially gave the true meaning of the statement away.

“Aww, Beca,” the other girls said in response.

 Emily encircled Beca in her arms and pulled her into a crushing side-hug. “You couldn’t lose us if you tried.”

“You’re the jelly to the rest of our peanut butter!” Amy added.

“You’re basically one of my second moms, so I’m going to feel the urge to call or FaceTime you each and every day while you’re on tour anyway,” Emily went on, still with Beca in her grasp.

“Group hug! To show Beca how much we love her,” Cynthia Rose called out, and everyone jumped up. Beca tried to protest, but it was no use. She gave up the fight as the Bellas descended upon her.

Beca lasted a minute and a half before she extracted herself from the tangle of arms and legs. No one even noticed she had managed to escape. Perks of being small, she thought to herself.

Fortunately, Chloe was on top of the pile and all it took was a tap on the shoulder to get her attention.

“Hey, um, you think we could talk?” The words didn’t come out as confident as Beca hoped they would, but at least they were what she meant to say.

“Always,” Chloe responded through a smile.

Beca lead her away from the Bellas, who were still engaged in the group hug, and out onto Amy’s balcony, because balconies, seemingly, had recently become the best place to talk.

Aubrey was right: it was now or...a very long time for now.

Chloe slid the glass door shut behind them. “How long do you think it’ll take them to realize we ditched?”

“Those people in there? Probably close to an hour.” Beca prayed Aubrey would pick up on the fact that she and Chloe were missing and understand what was, finally, happening.

“That’s generous of you,” Chloe said. She leaned on the railing, and with the pink-and-purple-sunset-sky in the background, Beca thought the world couldn’t get much more stunning. “I was thinking two more hours or something.”

“Alright,” Beca began, and, unsurprisingly, the pacing commenced, “I have something to tell you. Well, a lot to tell you, really. I don’t know what it’s going to sound like, and I don’t know how you’re going to take it, but it would be, like, super helpful if you let me get everything out there before sharing your thoughts.” She glanced at Chloe, who had yet to look away from Beca since leaving the Bellas inside.

“Of course, Beca. Whatever you need.”

Of course her answer was of course. Because it’s Chloe. Patient and understanding and kind in any situation.

Beca’s heart thundered in her ears and the flutter in her stomach was more prominent than it had ever been. As nervous as she was, Beca also felt adrenaline cascading through her, sending a hum of anticipation down her body.

“Here goes nothing,” she muttered. She steeled herself, and, with no glaring starting point, simply started talking.  “My whole life has been spent being ordinary. I never lived up to my parents’ expectations. When I did come close, they found something to criticize or change about me. My dad was hundreds of miles away and he still made sure to remind me whenever I messed up. I’ve never really known who I am because someone always tells me who I am is wrong, even after I’ve tried to change myself. I’m too much this, or not enough that. It’s a vicious cycle I thought I’d never escape. 

“Then I met you. You look at me, and I feel...extraordinary. Even on my worst days, even when I feel like throwing in the towel and giving up on everything. You make me feel like I could take on the whole world and actually stand a chance of winning. 

“And, you know, I never really believed in soulmates. The universe designing a single person you’re supposed to meet and spend the rest of your life with? It didn’t make sense to me. Until you. God, Chloe, you didn’t even have to try. It was like, you walked into my life and knew exactly where you were supposed to be and what you were supposed to do. Like you’d been there all along. Like you were meant to be there. I didn’t question it, I hardly thought about it, because it seemed so normal and familiar.”

Beca shot a glimpse at Chloe and was met with a piercing blue gaze. It was beautiful, unnerving, and encouraging all at the same time.

“I finally started coming around to the idea of soulmates. I thought, hey, soulmates can come in the form of friends too. That’s not unheard of. I believe it too. I absolutely believe it. Just...not when it comes to you. Because that didn’t - _doesn’t_ \- cover it. You are so much more than that. You always have been, and I am 100% certain you always will be.

“You are everything I want in life, Chloe, and nothing I deserve. But, now that I’ve reached this point, I feel obligated to promise you that’s not going to stop me from loving you. Because that’s what this is: my long-winded, probably somewhat convoluted way of saying I love you.”

Beca finished with strength, and as the final words left her mouth, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

Chloe opened her mouth to respond, couldn’t decide what she wanted to say, and snapped it shut. There were a few more seconds before she finally found her voice. “I’ll be back.”

She didn’t wait for Beca to say anything, just swept past her, brushing Beca’s shoulder lightly with her own on her way and went back into the hotel room, taking Beca’s heart with her.

 

* * *

 

She didn’t come back. Not five minutes later, not an hour later. Beca eventually couldn’t stand being on the balcony alone, and decided to follow suit and leave. She walked through Amy’s suite numbly, not bothering to talk to anyone or answer questions.

When she got back to her own room, she half hoped Chloe would be there with an explanation. No such luck. Beca slammed the door shut and tried to keep herself from hyperventilating.

Maybe Chloe just needed some time to process Beca’s words. It _was_ a lot to take in at once.

Or maybe Beca had freaked Chloe out. Maybe their friendship would never be the same because she had to go and open her mouth.

For another hour Beca strode around the room and analyzed her speech to Chloe. She noted things she may have benefitted from leaving out - was the soulmate comment too much? - and things she could have said differently.

Beca had reached the end of the scrutiny when the door opened again; before she could register what was going on, there were hands on either side of her face and lips on her own. Beca would have been able to identify the scent of lilac shampoo and the light perfume anywhere, and instantly melted into the touches.

The kiss was eager and hungry, but Chloe also managed to be soft and tender. Of course. It was electrifying, breathtaking, and Beca realized she had never experienced a true kiss until this one with Chloe.

Then she remembered the situation at hand. Her head clouded with doubt and a little bit of anger as she put her hands on Chloe’s shoulders and pushed away from her, even though every nerve in Beca’s body wanted the kiss to continue.

“Whoa, wait a minute,” she said. “What the hell?”

“Beca, I-” Chloe began breathlessly.

“No, seriously, hold on.” Beca ran a hand through her hair as she attempted to keep her exasperation at bay. “I pour my heart and soul out to you, you walk away, disappear for over two hours, and then storm in here and do-” she gestured between them, indicating the kiss, “ _that_?”

“Beca-”

“I get needing to process everything, but not even telling me what’s going on? That’s a little low, don’t you think, Chloe?”

“I was ending it with Chicago.”

She said it loudly and quickly, presumably so Beca wouldn’t get the chance to interrupt her for a third time.

“What?”

“I was ending it with Chicago,” Chloe repeated. “You really think I didn’t have any sort of response after all you said?” She looked at Beca intensely. “I had a million things to say, Beca. I still do, in fact. But I didn’t think it was fair to say them all to you when, technically, I was still with Chicago. I wanted to be free from everyone and everything when I told you.”

Beca’s heart sped up as she stood across from Chloe and looked at her nervously. “Told me what?”

“My turn. It would be super appreciated if you let me get everything out there before sharing your thoughts.”

There was a ghost of a smile on Chloe’s lips, and for some inexplicable reason, it brought comfort to Beca. She nodded her head once, not trusting her voice.

Chloe took a deep, fortifying breath. “Okay. I most likely won’t sound as eloquent as you, but I’m going to give it a shot. Beca, I have been in love with you since I laid my eyes on you. Who knew activity fairs could be so useful? For some reason, as soon as I saw you, I knew my whole life was leading up to that moment.

“It wasn’t just that, though. I thought maybe I was getting ahead of myself with the whole ‘love’ thing. Then you joined the Bellas. _You_ looked at _me_ and saw me as more than just Aubrey’s dumb sidekick. You listened to me. You valued my thoughts and opinions. It was the first time I felt like I had something to contribute to the world. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain how much that meant to me.

“You challenged me, and made me look at the world in ways I didn’t know existed. It’s something for which I will always be grateful. You came out of nowhere and fit into my life perfectly. You accepted me. You encouraged me to be myself. And you’ve never left. That’s the best part, in my opinion. Even after you’ve earned your more-than-deserved success and recognition, you’re still here.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say here is, you make me happy, Beca. Happier than anyone I’ve ever know. Happier than I thought possible. You are the best friend, the best person, I have ever known. The world is big and intimidating and just downright scary, but it’s less of those things because you are in mine. And I’d really like to keep it that way.”

Chloe shrugged when she was done, and Beca thought her heart was going to burst.

“So, you’re saying…”

“I am saying, Beca Mitchell,” Chloe said firmly, “that I am beyond in love with you.”

“Wow,” Beca breathed. An instant later she was grinning broadly.

“What?”

“You actually feel the same way about me.”

“You had concerns?” Chloe asked in surprise.

“Well, yeah!” Beca exclaimed. “This is, like, a big deal.”

“Beca, for God’s sake, I walked into your shower. I can’t believe you didn’t know how I feel.” Chloe was smiling from ear to ear now too.

“You never know, okay?”

“Earlier you called me your soulmate. You should know.”

“I didn’t explicitly call you my soulmate,” Beca corrected her with a devious smile.

“Oh, so I’m not your soulmate?”

“No,” Beca sighed contentedly. “You definitely are.”

Chloe took a few steps forward so she was a foot away from Beca. “So, does this mean we can pick up where we left off a few minutes ago?”

Beca bit her lip. “I’m not sure what you mean…”

“Can I _please_ kiss you again?” Chloe’s eyes twinkled brightly and if they were the only thing Beca saw for the rest of her life, she’d be more than happy.

“I really, truly thought you’d never ask.”

Chloe closed the distance between their lips. Her hands found themselves on Beca’s waist, pulling her in as close as possible. It was warm and gentle, full of longing that had been pent up for years, and more intoxicating than the first one. Beca noticed how well they fit together, bodies and lips, and as her hands intertwined in Chloe’s hair, the entire world dissolved around them.

“Sorry I took so long to get here,” Beca whispered when they paused momentarily for a breath. She felt Chloe’s grin against her lips.

“You know I’d wait an eternity for you, right?”

An hour ago, Beca would have answered in the negative, she didn’t know how long Chloe would wait for her. But now, with endless possibilities stretched out in front of her, all of which did include Chloe in the future, she was going to make sure she never forgot it.

 


End file.
